


Careful Actions (Aren't Found Here)

by Bam4Me



Series: Rebuilt [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Friend Scott, Derek wont become Alpha, Drug Use, First of a series, Gen, If you think anyone is straight in this youre wrong, Not because he doesnt care about stiles bit because he hates being a werewolf, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski in later sequel, Peter isn't good in this yet, Protective Sheriff Stilinski, Scott later becomes human again, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles-centric, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15333558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: Stiles never expected to be bit, he didn't think he'd ever have to deal with anything but being a weak human in a town once belonging to a big beautiful pack who wouldn't run here again.Though, maybe, at least one of them...





	Careful Actions (Aren't Found Here)

**Author's Note:**

> Is Sheriff/Peter gonna happen here? Fuck yeah it is. But not till after Peter gets killed and comes back to life.
> 
> Is Stiles/Derek gonna happen here? I'm leaning towards no, because, I don't play like that, and they think of each other as brothers in this series, but idk I don't rule anything out cause it's all possible whatever. Don't ask for it tho that'll make me want it less.
> 
> Scott will eventually go back to being human at the end of this first fic.
> 
> The panic attacks and the pills Stiles is switching to are both 100% accurately written cause I have panic attacks and take tryptophan too.
> 
> I thought... this would be like... 3k and then I'd be onto the sequels... but... no... I'm possibly gonna do a chapter for every episode of the first season...
> 
> gayerthancanon.tumblr.com

Stiles didn’t think Scott was any good at keeping secrets. Not in the slightest, to be honest.

 

He watched the newly turned werewolf from the bleachers off to the side, while Scott amazed and stole the show with his new wolfy powers of strength, agility, and the ability to run without keeling over and dying. He shook his head with a roll of his eyes and looked back down to his phone at the text screen.

 

**Dad - Remember, no try outs. You need to keep this a secret, Stiles.**

 

**Stiles - Ya, I know dad**

 

He couldn’t believe this. He’d spent all day trying to get Scott to bow out of try outs with him, and he’d been pretty sure he’d convinced him of it too, all the way up till Lydia said something about Lacrosse and all rational thought had felt Scott’s fluffy head as he thought of new ways to get Allison to fall in love with him.

 

It would be sort of pathetic if it weren’t obvious that the girl had just as much of an immediate crush on Scott. Hell, he wasn’t tripping over himself to get Lydia’s attention. His focus was mainly sort of on trying not to let anyone know that an alpha werewolf recently used him as a chew toy.

 

Thankfully, he wasn’t anymore agile now than he was before. Now he could trip over twice as many things in half the time. Yay him.

 

He looked over to where Lydia and Allison were sitting on the bleachers, a row below him and about twenty feet over. Enough that he could look like he was trying to sit as close as a loser could to Lydia, without trying to creep her out.

 

Something was wrong. Something… he didn’t want to go out with her. Is that weird? Does being a werewolf change who you want to be with?

 

She’d walked past him this morning and he’d thought with his new powerful senses he’d smell her and fall even deeper in love.. But he didn’t. In fact, she smelled like a corpse. What the hell was up with that? She’d always smelled amazing and perfect when he was human. That should be amplified, heightened. Not… this. He let out a little sigh, turning back to the field and closing his eyes in shame as he watched all thought of Scott being  _ safe _ from hunters knowing who he was, go right out the window and into the woodchipper. Right with Stiles’s crush.

 

He was going to get himself killed if a hunter figured out what he was. He was going to get himself killed, and it was going to lead right back to Stiles, and then Stiles would die and his father would lose himself to alcohol and grief. As if the first time didn’t hurt enough.

 

**Stiles - Scott is going to get himself hunted.**

 

He attached a photo of Scott playing as goalie, feeling anxiety and fear form a pit in the bottom of his stomach, making him feel keyed up, like his body was buzzing, like he couldn’t control himself, like he needed to run, like he wanted to curl up in a little ball and cry because nothing was okay.

 

He pulled in a gasp of air, holding a hand against his chest as he slowly let it out, trying to do one of those stupid breathing exercises, turning his phone face down on his binder when he got a reply text from his dad. He put his head in his hands and leaned forward, putting his head as close to his knees as he could without drawing attention to himself about it.

 

It took a good five minutes to calm down. It felt like a small eternity before he could lift his head again without wanting to run away, but even still, his stomach was rolling and he couldn’t hold back the shudder of pain going up his back, anxiety still wracking him through.

 

Apparently, being a werewolf didn’t give you anymore serotonin than being a human. He needs to go back on the pills he was taking before the doctors suggested Adderall. Heaven knows the Adderall wouldn’t do shit against his body right now to help his ADHD or anxiety, but going back on the supplements should work since they’re not the same thing.

 

He picked up his phone again, still tiredly leaning against one hand as he opened up the text from his dad with the other.

 

**Dad - Tell him I would like to speak with him ASAP. This isn’t something he can just wave around like it’s a new special skill he learned.**

 

**Stiles - Ill tell him.**

 

**Stiles - I need to go back on Tryptophan. That should still work, right?**

 

It took his dad a few minutes to answer that one, and when he did, it sent a shot of relief like a Xanax through him.

 

**Dad - Deaton says it will. It’s not something your body will metabolize. It won’t make you fall asleep anymore, but it’ll still help you convert serotonin.**

 

**Stiles - Thank G-d, send him my eternal gratitude.**

 

**Dad - I’ve ordered you two bottles, they should be here by dinner, free same day shipping.**

 

**Stiles - Thank you. I love you.**

 

**Dad - Love you too, kiddo.**

 

Stiles put the phone back down on the bleacher next to him, tiredly slumping in on himself. He could feel a weird ball of anticipation energy building up in his stomach, he wished he was home right now, he wished he had the pills already. They worked fast, the last time he’d had to take them, stopping panic attacks before the could build up.

 

He wished he was in his bed, curled up with his laptop watching cartoons. He wished school wasn’t a thing. He wished he never had to leave the house.  _ Ever _ .

 

Oh no, that’s the agoraphobia he got after his mom died, coming back to rear it’s ugly head just because he feels bad right now. He wants to lock himself in the house and never come back out.

 

The pills will stop this. They always made things bearable.

 

Then he would just have to deal with the teachers pissed off and complaining that he wasn’t taking his ADHD medication anymore. He’d probably snap and tell them the anxiety was worse than the ADHD and they could suck his ass because he  _ literally _ felt like he was dying right now sitting here and watching Scott ruin his life and any chance he has at being normal again and waiting for dinner so he could finally take the pills that would make him calm down and stop wanting to die and- and-

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and all his senses came back to him in one painful gust, heart racing, he could smell a sickly sweet smell like… like a dead body covered in lavender…

 

He looked up with wet eyes, uncurling from his place hunched in on himself, and found himself looking at Lydia and Allison. Allison looked concerned, upset that something was wrong. Lydia looked… upset, like one of her many subjects was sick, and it was obviously her fault for not taking care of her kingdom better.

 

Yeah, that seemed better. Maybe it’s just his lack of Adderall affecting his brain and the crush will be back tomorrow. 

 

“Breathe, Steven.”

 

Stiles gave her a little frown, but he was already starting to pull air in better than before. “Stiles.”

 

Lydia gave him a look, a little quirk of her lips that used to drive Stiles wild, but didn’t otherwise react to that. “Yeah, okay. Breathe. What happened?”

 

Stiles watched the two of them settle down in front of him like they had been there the whole time the row ahead of him. Practice was still going on below them. Not much time had passed. He feels like he’s been here forever.

 

“I… I didn’t take my Adderall this morning. I’m changing prescriptions.”

 

Lydia looked like she knew what he was talking about, and for a moment Stiles wondered if she ever actually paid attention to his babbling near her, or if she was just good at looking like she knew what was going on. Allison frowned. “When you change prescriptions, aren’t you supposed to be weaned off the pills?”

 

Stiles coloured red. Most people didn’t ask that. He couldn’t really wean himself off a pill that didn’t work on him anymore. “I’ve sorta been… forgetting to take them. I- um… I  _ just _ asked my dad to switch my prescription to anxiety meds. I need them more.”

 

Lydia let out a wistful little sigh, looking down at the field. “You haven’t had an attack like that since elementary school. I remember the last time you did, you ended up hospitalized because the teachers saw McCall’s inhaler and thought it was asthma, gave it to you, and made it worse.”

 

Stiles felt the pit in his stomach unclench some. Ahh, her voice would still always soothe him at least, it seems. “I used to have a placebo inhaler. It wasn’t medicine, but the actions caused me to take in air and hold it like if I was having an actual asthma attack. It made me stop panicking and less likely to pass out. I thought she was handing me  _ my _ inhaler. Turns out I was a little bit allergic to Scott’s medicine.”

 

Allison was giving him a gentle look, like a half drowned kitten she wanted to help. Stiles can’t say he isn’t used to those looks, but it’s a little odd getting them from someone his own age. Normally it was little old ladies coddling him.

 

“So, no more Adderall. Okay.”

 

Stiles nodded. He still felt a little numb, but less like he was falling into a pit of despair. “It doesn’t mix well with my anxiety meds. I take tryptophan, it raises serotonin levels. People use it for anxiety and depression. I used to take it before, but I had to stop because the teachers kept getting pissed at my dad cause I talked too much and couldn’t sit still in class, they said it was dad’s fault and I couldn’t stand them blaming him because I had a freaking mental disorder so I told dad my anxiety wasn’t as bad anymore and we could switch to the ADHD meds.”

 

He bit his lower lip, putting a clamp on his rambling mouth, still a little red faced from nerves and embarrassed that he couldn’t shut up now. Lydia just looked back at him for a long moment. Allison seemed to be watching her for ques on where to go with this. Stiles got that often too. He could scare people off within minutes sometimes.

 

“And if they get mad about your ADHD now?”

 

Stiles let out an angry little huff of air at that, and it came out a near growl, making the redhead raise an eyebrow at him. “If they get pissed at me for that, I’ll put my awesome research abilities to work to see how they deal with a lawsuit threat for being ableist. I can’t  _ help _ having ADHD, and I can’t help having anxiety. Having ADHD means it’s a little hard to focus, and hard to sit still, but that’s considered a learning disability that they should be able to accomodate. Having an anxiety disorder is like being stabbed in the gut multiple times a day. It’s like paranoia that there’s always someone standing  _ right _ behind you even if your back is to a wall, it’s the need to hide in your house all day and never leave because there are  _ people _ outside and people are  _ dangerous _ and could kill you at any moment. It’s… I can’t deal with it. I would rather deal with inability to focus any day, at least I can  _ make it _ through the day without feeling like  _ this _ .”

 

Lydia was silent for long enough that Stiles mentally started hitting himself, angry for letting things get this far, for  _ opening his fucking mouth _ , but she finally let out a long breath of air, giving a nod. “If they don’t listen, just tell me.”

 

Stiles sat up a little, both him and Allison giving her strange looks while she went back to watching the practice.

 

Amazing. He finally got her attention. And it’s… it’s  _ relieving _ , but not in the way he wanted it to be.

 

He can handle this. He can do it.

 

He really wished he didn’t have to do this.

 

***

 

John had to shift around three deputies to get a free night on the day of the full moon. Deaton was already waiting for him when he got home with Stiles in the back seat of the car. The tryptophan was working wonders for his anxiety, though the kid’s chemistry teacher has already lodged two complaints about him being unruly in class because of his ADHD. He tried to put Stiles in detention for the whole  _ week _ because he couldn’t sit still.

 

Needless to say, Stiles had come through with his complaint about ableism, pulling up IDEA statutes about providing safe care for people with both emotional and health impaired issues in a move that almost got Harris fired. The school had made a mad scramble to fix things, not wanting to get sued over this since Stiles has the doctors visits needed to get him listed under the disabilities act.

 

Both Stiles and John wish it had gotten him fired, that man has been a thorn in Stiles’s side since freshman year and he wasn’t letting up any. He was a terrible person. Or at least moved him to another class. But chemistry was a required subject, and he was the only teacher for it at the school. Stiles was going to be looking for online classes for chemistry after the full moon was up, see if he could get switched to a free period for that class so he could do independent study.

 

But now… he’s been fidgeting all day in school, unable to sit still, driving everyone but Finstock mad. Finstock didn’t care, as long as he paid attention well enough and didn’t interrupt.

 

So far he’s destroyed three pens by chewing on them.

 

He needs a freaking chew toy, he’s going to put holes in his shirts at the rate he was gnawing on the collars.

 

“Scott is going to the party with Allison. I couldn’t talk him out of it.”

 

John leaned forward a little in his seat after parking, eyes closing. He smelled angry.  _ Really _ angry.

 

“If he’s the reason hunters find and hurt you, I’m putting a bullet in his leg. I don’t care how much you love him Stiles, he’s acting like an idiot, and he needs to stop before one of you  _ dies _ .”

 

Stiles let out a little sniffle, reaching up to rub his eye. Scott has been angry all day today, getting pissed off at the slightest thing, refusing to listen to reason, insisting he needed to go to the party tonight, but he’s been… Stiles has been… he’s been crying at things. Mainly Scott refusing to spend the night with him and his dad. He’s been feeling upset. Not anxious, not over the full moon, but over Scott and him getting hurt.

 

Is Allison already more important pack than he was?

 

Stiles was his  _ brother _ , wasn’t he?

 

The back door opened up and before Stiles could get his stuff to get out of the car, John was leaning in and pulling him into his arms. Stiles sniffled again and buried his face in his father’s neck, taking in his soothing scent as  _ packfamilydadjustwhatyouneed _ , and let it calm him down.

 

John pulled back when Stiles was breathing even again, letting him get out and up to the house.

 

Deaton had let himself in with the spare key John had told him would wait for him under behind a loose brick, and was waiting in the hallway outside the door to the basement.

 

They didn’t keep much down there but John had moved in a mattress and bedding, old shirts of his to add to the nest. Actually, Stiles had picked those out. He said he needed to get just the right ones. He wanted to go down and arrange them properly so they would fit into his nest just right. He wished he could take his laptop down with him so he could marathon some shows he needed to catch up on, but they didn’t know how he’d react to the full moon yet, and he didn’t want to have to replace the thing if he broke it.

 

“I’ve warded the room. It’s soundproof, a very  _ small _ lining of mountain ash around the outside so he can’t get out through the windows if he gets the idea to escape, and I’ve placed a few ruins about that should facilitate a…  _ calming _ experience. He should be set to last till sunup without any major incidents as long as he can stay calm.”

 

Stiles let out a sad little sigh, leaving his shoes at the door and heading towards the stairs. “I’m gonna go get changed. I want to at least be comfortable.”

 

John nodded, following Deaton into the kitchen so they could prepare enough food to keep a teenage werewolf sated. John broke out the frozen french fries, a ridiculous amount of chicken and red meat he’d promised Stiles while they were still in the store he wouldn’t touch because of his diet, and a box of alfredo pasta. Stiles didn’t generally have much of an appetite, first because of the Adderall, and second now because raised serotonin levels make you less hungry, but Deaton had cautioned him to plan for the hunger.

 

“I remember back when you and Claudia were fighting over the Emissary position in the Hale pack, back before we even finished college, back before Stiles was born. I was so thankful when she ended up focusing on her degree instead. I thought it was  _ safer _ .”

 

Deaton gave him a sad look. “Claudia was the only person who could have rivaled me for that position at the time. But she wanted to be with you more.”

 

John just hummed, moving almost on rote while he started cooking. The chicken was for him and Deaton most likely, since Stiles was more partial to red meat like his dad. Lucky him, he’d never get John’s bad cholesterol now. 

 

“She loved the Hales. They were her family too, you know.”

 

Deaton nodded. “I know. Scott and Stiles now… I will try my best with them. We’ll keep them safe. I hear the Argents moved back to town, I plan on approaching them to get them to leave tomorrow. We don’t need anymore of their…  _ them _ .”

 

Deaton rarely showed anything but a careful mask, but the look on his face was almost what you could call a  _ rage _ for a few seconds. The Argents were why the Hale pack was gone. Kate and her bloodthirsty father were a plague on anything not human. They were despicable.

 

“If they get anywhere near my son… my  _ pup _ , I’m not holding back, Alan. The Argents already took one  _ stable _ and  _ loving _ pack from this town, I’m not letting them touch these boys.”

 

Deaton just nodded again. “I understand. I will help where I can. I couldn’t help the Hale pack in the end, but I can help them where I can.”

 

John nodded with a sigh. “They don’t need to do this alone. Couldn’t convince Scott to come tonight, but Stiles will be here. He has a parent with a gun, and an emissary who doesn’t want to see him  _ dead _ . Now I just have to figure out how to tell Melissa about this all.”

 

“You want to tell Melissa?”

 

Stiles was in the doorway to the room, wearing a tee shirt from John’s closet and a pair a sweats he’d likely stolen from Scott’s bedroom the last time he was there. He looked cosy, ready for a night watching movies with Scott, rather than a night in the basement trying not to kill anyone.

 

John turned back to the stove with a little sigh. “Yes, Stiles, if you couldn’t convince him to ditch his date that he  _ shouldn’t have made _ so he doesn’t possibly turn into a bloodthirsty killer tonight, I’m going to have to tell his mom. He can’t run around acting like everything is fine every full moon. It’s not just  _ him _ I’m worried about, he could  _ hurt _ someone.”

 

Stiles scrubbed at his eyes, making a sad little whine in the back of his throat. He didn’t want to  _ deal _ with any of this, and now he was going to spend the rest of the night wondering if Scott was hurting someone-

 

He felt a hand on his arm and let the veterinarian lead him to the table to sit down, and vaguely realized he was having a bit of a panic attack. He gasped in a little, feeling Deaton pass him over to John who helped him get his head between his legs and listened to them talk above him.

 

“I think you two need to double his tryptophan for about three days leading up to the full moon, it should give him enough of a boost to stay calm on the night of, for now I have another idea for tonight. Where’s Stiles’s anxiety meds? Also, call Scott, tell him to get his ass over here right now. We’ll let him go to the party but I need him over here before he goes.”

 

Stiles let out a squeaky little croak. “He doesn’t know you know about us.”

 

Deaton hummed from where he’d been pointed into the downstairs bathroom, looking through the medicine cabinet before pulling out a bottle of Stiles’s emergency Xanax. They were for the  _ really _ bad panic attacks.

 

John was calling Scott while he went back to the stove to make sure nothing burned, and he sounded a little snappy with the teen, telling him under no uncertain terms what was going to happen right now. When he hung up and looked back to the vet with a raised eyebrow, he frowned at the sight of the man crushing up a Xanax with a spoon.

 

“That’s not gonna work, don’t werewolves get  _ stronger _ on the full moon?”

 

Deaton just gave him an eye roll and pulled a bottle out of his bag. “Do you really think I don’t know that? I know how to medicate a werewolf. Half the reason I became emissary was because I know how to work around werewolf biology.”

 

He mixed something in with the white powder and pulled a straw out of the bag next, moving to nudge Stiles’s shoulder. When he was sitting up, Deaton slid the paper with the mixture over to the teen and handed him the straw. “Snort that.”

 

Stiles’s face was comical, eyes wide and a little nervous, slowly taking the straw from the vet. He looked over at his dad, and back to Deaton, shifting between the two of them a few times before looking down at the powder, that looked like it was mixed with purple glitter dust. 

 

“I’ve never snorted anything before.”

 

The sheriff sighed. “Thank god for small mercies.”

 

It took him a few times but he eventually got it all in, breathing funny like it hurt, but mostly just shaking his head and pinching his nose to get rid of the funny feeling. “Why couldn’t I have just swallowed it?”

 

Deaton cringed. “That was wolfsbane in the powder. Snorted, it doesn’t have many lasting effects other than a slight burning feeling for a good half hour, but swallow it and you’re liable to get ulcers. It mixes with stomach acid and gets a little volatile. I didn’t want you to get internal bleeding while I’m trying to calm you down.”

 

Stiles was sitting back in the chair, holding his face in his hands while he stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, pupils blown wide. “Oh. Cool, I guess. Thanks. Is dinner ready yet?”

 

John sighed, looking at the stove and turning all the burners off but for the chicken. He didn’t want undercooked chicken.

 

“I guess you want your steak  _ red _ , then?”

 

Stiles nodded, looking dazed. “God yeah. With potatoes. Is there potatoes?”

 

John checked the oven. “Yeah but they got another ten minutes.”

 

“I can wait.”

 

Stiles was halfway through stuffing his face when there was a knock on the door. Deaton opened it up to a sulky looking Scott, who seemed pissed to even be here at all. But he stopped, surprised to see his boss here.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Deaton let him in, leading the way back to the kitchen where he pulled him into a chair with another weird powder mix set in front of him as well. “I’m here to keep newly bit wolves from going on a rampage. Scott, you aren’t human anymore, what you’re doing right now is reckless and stupid, you’re putting yourself and others at risk just being out tonight.”

 

Scott rolled his eyes. God, Stiles wanted to be pissed at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to really  _ feel _ any emotions right now, just sort of floating outside his body while he ate and watched Scott be the world’s most dramatic teenager ever. It was so stupid.

 

“I’m not going to let this ruin my life. It’s stupid.”

 

Stiles sighed, hunching over to eat more of this massive red steak while overall ignoring his best friend and his stupid life choices. It’s not just  _ his _ life they’re worried about right now.

 

“I didn’t even know you  _ knew _ about it. Stiles told me not to tell anyone.”

 

Deaton stood up with his arms crossed, looking  _ so done _ with his young employee right now. Thankfully, he knew werewolves well enough not to be offended by the words. “I’ve been working with werewolves since before you were born. I’m here to  _ help _ so you don’t hurt anyone.”

 

Scott looked offended. “I won’t hurt anyone.”

 

“Have you ever had a full moon while a werewolf before?”

 

Scott shook his head, still stubborn and pigheaded. “No.”

 

“Then you don’t  _ know _ that. Even Stiles is going to be locked in a warded room for the night so he doesn’t make a mistake.”

 

Scott looked over at Stiles with wide eyes. “You’re going to let him lock you up?”

 

Stiles’s voice was a little rough from the wolfsbane when he spoke up, but he didn’t waver, his heartrate didn’t change. “Yeah. It’s the smartest thing to do. Have to make sure I’m not violent.”

 

Scott just sighed, like he thought Stiles was particularly stupid, and Stiles had to forcefully remind himself that it was just the moon making him upset. “Stiles, you’re so much more powerful now, and you’re such a good person, you’d never hurt anyone.”

 

Stiles looked him dead in the eye when he responded. “With great power comes great responsibility. I’m stronger now. I have the ability to hurt someone. It’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

 

Scott just sighed again. “Listen, if that’s all you have for me-”

 

  
Deaton shook his head, pointing at the powder mixture in front of him. “It’s not. Snort that, and give me your keys, then you can go, but you’re walking.”

 

Scott looked between the powder mixture and everyone else in the room, shocked. “What you wanna drug me?”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “It’s just a Xanax. Xanax is fun. Remember that time we took them and marathoned the Star Wars movies? That was fun. Now you get to get all buzzed and go to a party with a pretty girl. See, we won’t even stop you.”

 

John wanted to ask about their buzzed movie marathon, but he wasn’t going down that rabbit hole right now. Stiles knew what he felt about smoking, so at least he hadn’t been killing his lungs, but it still wasn’t all that comforting. Scott just sighed. “It’s not gonna work, remember? Body works too fast.”

 

“It’s mixed with wolfsbane. Wolfsbane slows your body’s healing process enough that it gets you high before you can heal from it. Well, this wolfsbane. Other strains can kill you, or make you real sick. So can mistletoe. Don’t eat mistletoe.”

 

Scott looked horrified at his friend. “Why do I have to snort it?”

 

“If you swallow it, it’ll mix with your stomach acid and give you ulcers. You don’t want internal bleeding. Then you’ll be in the hospital while we try to explain to your mom what happened.”

 

Scott just picked up the little straw and frustratedly tried to snort up as much of the mixture as he could. He had about the same issues of not knowing how as Stiles did. John was just thankful they obviously hadn’t tried coke before.

 

Scott stood up with a wobble to his posture and took his keys out of his pocket, handing them over to Deaton who took them carefully to set aside for later.

 

“Okay, can I go now.”

 

Stiles just sighed, turning away from him again so Scott wouldn’t see the look of hurt on his face at his packmate so obviously rejecting him.

 

He wasn’t good enough for his brother. He wasn’t good enough for pack.

 

When Scott was gone, it was too quiet in the kitchen, so Stiles stood up from the table, plate empty and stomach full. “Can I bring my laptop down anyways? I’m high as fuck I just wanna watch Netflix and nest.”

 

John just nodded sadly. “Is it okay if I come down later, for… bonding, I guess?”

 

Stiles smiled a little, nodding, before leaving to go take his laptop from his room, bringing it all down to the basement with his favorite blanket. His mom made him that blanket when he was young.

 

The nest was nice, and it smelled like his dad, since his dad had been the one who made it for him before Deaton put up the wards, and the room smelled like his dad and a little like Deaton. It smelled like pack. He curled up in the blanket nest with his laptop next to him on the bed, floating a little while he checked his emails, avoided facebook, and watched some youtube videos about Japanese toys that looked weird and did extremely mundane things. It was just like any regular Friday night.

 

He really had no life. But actually… even without the whole werewolf thing, this was way better than going to a party. Too many people, too many noises, too much to overwhelm him, too many people who didn’t want him there.

 

His laptop was his best friend. Maybe even his new brother.

 

That  _ really _ stung him, what Scott did, in case you didn’t know.

 

He welcomed the placid feeling of floating without any particular destination in mind that the drugs always brought on. He was self aware enough to know that he had addiction written in his DNA, and he was constantly thankful that he couldn’t stand the taste of beer, the smell would be even worse like this. He knew that normal kids didn’t daydream about the pill bottles at home in the medicine cabinet while in English class. He knew that even if he wasn’t addicted yet, it was a slippery slope till he might be, since he had such ready access to them.

 

He knew he should have told his dad so he could lock them up in his gun safe for Stiles’s own safety. He knew his dad would be worried about him, but he’d be proud of him for knowing what was good for himself without hitting rock bottom first.

 

But now he was a werewolf, and his chances of interacting with these substances are slim, cut down to the minimum of when Deaton would give him the wolfsbane powder. They could talk about his possible addiction issues when they offered to let him use his own judgement and give him his own powder.

 

He could watch cartoons right now. Netflix and Pill. That’s what he’s got right now.

 

He was startled from his vacant gaze towards the screen when the door to the basement opened and someone started coming down. He took a deep breath and let it out with a better state of mind, happy that it was just his dad. He looked back to the screen and realized he never pressed play.

 

“Hey kiddo, ready for some company?”

 

Stiles made a soft little whining noise, reaching out for the man who came to sit in the space behind him in the nest, giving an amused little chuff when Stiles turned to press into him, breathing in deep lung fulls of his father’s scent. It was soothing and made him relax into him, his wolf whining in a damn near pleasure at  _ packandrightandgoodandlove _ . He curled up into his father and he didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it was good, and he was pleased.

 

Finally, he felt well enough to turn back over and reach over to press play on the video, noting that he had chosen an episode of the Clone Wars. Must have clicked at random in his recently watched section.

 

John stayed curled up around him for a long time as he drifted in his drugged haze and watched Jedi fighting and felt a keen pang of loss whenever a clone was killed in the show. The clones were all a big pack sort of. He knows what it’s like when a packmate dies or abandons you.

 

Man, he was high.

 

The two of them eventually drifted off in his massive nest, close like they hadn’t been since Stiles had decided to stop crawling into bed with John at night two years ago, deciding he was too old for that. Too mature. He had been so, so wrong.

 

They were woken up by the sound of the basement door opening, and for a moment Stiles got worried, it was still dark out. Not time for him to come out of the warded room yet. But then he smelled nothing but Deaton, and let out a little sigh of relief.

 

The computer was dark now, so Stiles closed it and set it behind the nest to the side, raising an eyebrow at the vet when he came to crouch next to the edge of the nest.

 

“Stiles, Scott came back, and he wants to see you now.”

 

Stiles sat up, and if he had a tail, it would be wagging. His brother came back?

 

Deaton frowned a little. “He also… brought someone with him.”

 

Stiles’s face went from happy to crumpled. He liked Allison, but if Scott brought her back with him-

 

“It’s Derek Hale.”

 

Stiles was frozen for a long minute. There weren’t many people left in the Hale’s old pack, and Derek had been a teenager when they all had died. He remembered seeing him a few times when he was little, coming with his mother to see Talia. He was broody, but he’d always had a smile for Stiles, like he was happy to see him.

 

Stiles cocked his head to the side, and looked back at John for guidance. John just smiled at him, running a hand up and down his arm. “Hey, kiddo, it’s up to you if they come down or not. It’s your nest, and you don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

 

Stiles seemed to think that over before making a grumbling chuff, surprising himself with the noise. He tried to make words but… they only came out as a weird little yip and a strange purr. He frowned, looking back at the vet. He just gave him a stiff nod this time, obviously done attempting words for now. Deaton just smiled and reached out to pet his short buzzcut, making more purrs come tumbling out like liquid at the welcome touch.

 

He’s decided, Deaton is pack too. He must be pack.

 

It took a long uncomfortable minute of Stiles attempting to listen to the voices through the soundproofing wards -impossible- and burrowing into John’s side for comfort, but eventually the door opened up again, and Scott’s scent came in after it, then another scent, one he didn’t recognize.

 

But, it wasn’t a threatening scent either. It was… different. Sad, maybe. A little scared even.

 

But Stiles liked it. It would smell good in his pack.

 

Derek was tall and muscled and nothing like the skinny little teenage boy Stiles had met him as a few times. He was awkward, and he looked a little stiff, and he didn’t meet any of their eyes.

 

Stiles wanted him to feel welcome, but he wasn’t sure he could manage the words, so he let out a purr so heavy John jumped a little at the feeling of Stiles’s chest vibrating against his side.

 

Derek let out a smaller one, cautious, a little nervous, in return. The born wolf’s heart was beating a little hard, but not enough to worry. Just nervous. Stiles’s  _ understands _ nervous.

 

Scott looked between the two of them uncertainly, and Stiles’s was loath to admit, he did not return their purr.

 

Stiles accepted him into his nest anyways. Scott was still his brother. Even if he fought this.

 

Derek was nice to squish up against, laying between the big muscle filled man and John, while Scott awkwardly took the spot at the end of the bed, trying not to touch any of them.

 

Stiles tried not to let it hurt.

 

It hurt.

 

Derek let out a soft little sigh into the hair on top of Stiles’s head, eyes closing in exhaustion, whole body sagging in what looked like relief. Sanctuary found.

 

Stiles was keeping him.

**Author's Note:**

> gayerthancanon.tumblr.com


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